


The Lies We Lead

by Suneater (Gryn)



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Dom!Jason, Dom/sub, F/M, Fake NOT dating au, There is reychel but it's a side ship so I'm not gonna tag it like an asshole, You're Welcome, i hope you enjoy, sub!piper, this is absolute self indulgent smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 12:22:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16387646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gryn/pseuds/Suneater
Summary: Jason Grace, son of the late, great actress Beryl and head of Jupiter studios, Zeus. Piper McLean, daughter of the rising star Tristan and infamous Aphrodite. Together they could set the tabloids on fire, if the paparazzi wouldn't tear them down in the process.So they hide their relationship in plain sight, and pretend they don't know what the other sounds like, feels like, tastes like.And they wrap themselves in rules in hopes it will keep them from the spotlight and the front page. But things are never that easy.





	The Lies We Lead

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the sin bin, friends. I can't promise when this will get updated as it's a self indulgent pet project but I hope you enjoy anyways.

 

The bubbles in her drink stream upwards, trailing lines that run from the bottom of her glass to the surface. The bubbles pop and fizzle, turning into a thin white foam that spreads across the surface of her drink. She twists the flute in her fingers, loathing the planners for not rotating the servers. Her first and second glasses had been traded in on a silver tray for fresh ones, the same pair of narrowed eyes looking her over each time. Piper lifts her third, and rationed glass, to her lips. She sips the champagne, bubbles now popping and fizzing against her lips.  
In the midst of her drink, she misses Rachel appearing beside her. When she looks up from her drink she’s met with the bright green eyes and red lipstick of Rachel Elizabeth Dare, smile across her brightly painted lips.  
“Piper,” Rachel says cheerily. “Surprised you made it.”  
“I can say the same,” Piper says, nodding.  
“And miss a chance to rub my relationship in the faces of the elite?” Rachel grins, turning in a half circle away from Piper, “Not a chance.”  
“So the rumors are true,” a half smile pulls at Piper's mouth, “and they still let you in?”  
“Reluctantly,” Rachel says turning back to her. “But yes, they let me in.”  
“And your date?”  
“I was looking for her when I stumbled into you,” Rachel holds out her arm for Piper. “Let's find her together.”  
“What will the faces of the elite think?” Piper laughs, taking Rachel's arm.  
“I don't care. But maybe we'll get lucky and one of them will have a heart attack,” Rachel grins at her.  
Piper lets Rachel take the lead, guiding them through the scattered groups that mingle and chat, couples breaking off from one group to glide to another. Women in rich gowns and men in crisp tuxes flow through the channels of open space, mixing with staff in the ever changing delta that exists between islands of wealthy old people.  
Rachel steps and slows, gently pushing and pulling, head always on a swivel, eye cast out towards the horizon of this silk sea. The ease of her movement and guidance would make any riverboat captain envious. The difference in being born into this, Piper surmises, versus rising into it. Something that is innately bread into the DNA, something she'll never grasp. Piper proudly drinks to that.  
They crest a larger group strung together in a circle that passes anecdotes on politics like it's a game to spectate. Piper lets her eyes float between the group, passing from flamboyant designer dress to generic tux and back again.  
“Reyna,” Rachel says cheerily.  
Piper slowly turns her attention away from the idle conversations around her, pulling her arm from Rachel's. She spots Reyna amidst the crowd, golden dress glittering. As gorgeous as Reyna is, it's the man standing next to her that makes her stomach flip, two and a half glasses of champaign boiling.  
“I see you found some company,” Rachel says cheekily, placing a kiss on her girlfriend. “Nice to see you, Jason.” Rachel turns to Piper, gesturing to Jason with one gloved hand. “Piper, have you met Jason Grace?”  
Fuck me.  
It's the first and only thought that rattles through her mind. Piper isn’t quite sure if it’s an exclamation or a request. She looks over six feet of well tailored tux that clings to his shoulders, dips in at his waist, and cuts such a wonderful picture. Quick memories of him in far less, far closer to her, in far more compromising positions trail through her mind. Two and something drinks in, this is enough to send a buzz through her.  
Remotely the thought of saying something comes to her. Echoing around the other thoughts of things she could do. She stands there, for all her worth, fighting between undressing him with her eyes and putting together a greeting. As she imagines sliding his jacket off his shoulders she realizes she's failed, but damn if she didn't try.  
“It's a pleasure to see you again,” he says, polite smile on his lips, head dipping just a fraction.  
Again.  
Her fingers tighten around her glass, tongue and throat suddenly dry, making it impossible to swallow.  
This time the thought doesn't rattle, it ricochets around her brain like a bullet. It shreds the memories and fantasies, chipping at the facade of calm she shoves up around herself.  
Again.  
Piper blinks at him, free falling into the depths of betrayal after he so suddenly pushed her off the cliff.  
“So you two know each other?” Rachel asks, leaning forward, eyes moving between them.  
“We met at the Hallburg fundraiser,” Jason says calmly.  
Again.  
This time the word drags the feeling of her cheeks warming, Jason's lingering eyes, her own lip caught between her teeth, the napkin she had stuffed into his hand with smeared writing.  
“She actually got you do dance with her,” Reyna says, lifting her own drink to take a sip.  
Piper’s eyes snap to Reyna, scanning through memories of that night for her face somewhere in the crowd. She can still feel the press of Jason’s fingers as they danced, hear the song they danced to, smell his cologne. As many memories as she can drag up from that night, Reyna’s face in the crowd isn’t one of them.  
She moves her gaze back to Jason, the clench in her stomach and tension in her shoulders relaxing finally.  
Again.  
If he hadn’t spoken first she would have denied ever meeting him, would have denied everything.  
“You danced?” Rachel balks at her. “At one of these things?”  
“I did,” Piper admits.  
A smile blooms across Rachel’s face, her eyes boring into Piper.  
“What could have gotten you to dance, hm?” Rachel breaks out into a full blown grin.  
“Saving me,” Jason says with a laugh. “Mrs. Gladwell and her friends cornered me. Ms. McLean took pity on me.” Jason gives her a warm smile that sends a shiver down her spine.  
“A knight in shining armor,” Rachel coos. “You two must have been adorable.”  
Jason gives a nervous laugh, rocking back onto his heels and glancing down at his glass, “Uh thank you.”  
“I wasn’t aware that you knew Jason,” Piper diverts, jumping at the chance to steer the conversation far away from that night.  
“Mmm,” Rachel says, “he and Reyna went to military school together.” Rachel turns to smile at her girlfriend.  
“It’s a small world,” Reyna shrugs. “What about you Piper? How do you know Rachel?”  
“There was an art gala highlighting the work of Native American artists,” Piper gives Rachel a small smile. “Rachel helped sponsor the event. We got to talking and since then she’s been a friendly face at events like this.”  
“Please,” Rachel scoffs. “If anything you’ve saved me from the boredom of these pretentious snobs,” she gestures the room.  
“Don’t forget you now have a dance partner,” Reyna adds, lips pulled in a pointed smile.  
“And such a handsome one,” Rachel adds.  
Jason clears his throat, shifting his weight between his feet as his cheeks start to turn pink.  
“You seem to be embarrassing him in front of a pretty girl, dear,” Reyna puts her hand on Jason’s shoulder.  
“Thank you, Reyna, for coming to my aid,” Jason says to the ground more than anything, or anyone else.  
“What else are friends for?” Reyna pats his shoulder.  
“I’m sorry Jason,” Rachel says, stifling a laugh. “Maybe we should go. I think I see the Vandersons, hopefully they’ll give generously to the Children’s Art Foundation again.”  
Rachel holds out her arm, waiting until Reyna takes it before stepping away.  
“Have fun you two,” Rachel throws over her shoulder.  
Piper is left standing feet away from Jason, doing her best not to remember the heat from the way he kissed her. She keeps her eyes on her drink, taking in how little she has left despite how desperately she could use a refill.  
“So,” Jason breaks the silence. “I guess we’re supposed to make small talk?”  
Piper tries to bite back on her laugh, only turning it into a snort. She looks up to see him smiling at her, his hands jammed into his pockets. There is something entirely unfair about the way he smiles at her, the way his eyes are only on her. They are the children of two of Hollywood’s most famous actors, but he looks at her like he’s utterly star struck.  
“You have to stop,” she groans.  
“Stop what?” he blinks, brows furrowing.  
“Looking at me like that, or I’m going to have to drag you to a room upstairs.”  
A rush of pink crosses his features, his eyes going wide.  
“Sorry,” he says, eyes still burning into her.  
Piper sighs, rolling her head to ease some of the tension in her neck, “No you’re not.”  
“I am.”  
“No,” Piper tells him. “You’re not, or you wouldn’t still be looking at me like that.”  
Jason swallows, then pulls his eyes away from her. He glances about the room instead, looking at anything and everything except her.  
Piper laughs, not bothering to try and hide it this time.  
“You’re great at this,” she says, lifting her glass to take a drink.  
“Look I’m trying, okay?” Jason stops his act of looking around the room. “What am I supposed to do?”  
“Act normal,” Piper says with a laugh, shaking her head.  
“I’m just- I’m not good at this.”  
“Having a conversation?”  
“Pretending I’m not interested,” he blurts out the words.  
What are you interested in?  
The words are almost on her lips before she filters the thought, catching them just in time. She has to remember she doesn't know him, she doesn't know what it's like to have the weight of him over her, she doesn't know what it's like to hear him groan her name.  
“Let’s focus on something else, then. How’s work?” Piper spins her glass between her fingers, reminding herself to look more mildly amused and less mouth wateringly hungry.  
“You want to talk about my work?” Jason blinks at her.  
“Since that’s what people make small talk about, yeah,” she says with a small laugh.  
“Yeah, of course,” Jason nods. “Work is going well, we brought in an architect from New York on this project. She’s amazing but she’s intense.”  
Piper listens as Jason continues to talk. He does his best to explain, to give her enough to understand what he’s talking about, but Piper is only half listening. She drifts in and out of the conversation, smiling at the way he talks with his hands, the scrunch of his face when he complains about people not appreciating history.  
The only method she has to measure how much time has passed is the dwindling level of her drink. She’s finished the last of her now warm and nearly flat champaign when Reyna and Rachel sweep back in.  
“Jason,” Reyna practically groans, “please tell me you’ve talked about more than your theater.”  
“I-” Jason looks at Piper, eyes dropping to her drink. “I’m sorry, I was going on.”  
“It’s fine,” Piper says, her hand moving towards him just for a second before she pulls it back. “It was very interesting, and at least it wasn’t a conversation on how social media is ruining everything.”  
The three of them chuckle, Piper smiling at her own joke.  
“Still, it wasn’t very gentlemanly of me.”  
It’s not the gentleman in you that I want.  
The thought sends a shock through her, stripping away a layer of the buzz that radiates through her body. There’s no surprise in the thought, only a brutal honesty. Drunken words are sober thoughts, but there’s a danger in them, especially in this place.  
“Jason Grace failing to be a gentleman,” Reyna tisks, “it seems Chivalry is dead.”  
“I’m glad you’re here to remind me of my failings,” Jason deadpans. “How did your schmoozing go?”  
“Wonderfully!” Rachel exclaims. “They are willing to practically fund us for another year.”  
“You managed to get him to agree to that much?” Piper asks, twisting to glance at where the Vandersons stand with state senators and various chief officers of something or another.  
“I think he would have agreed to anything, he was too busy trying to examine me,” Reyna growls. “You’d think he’d never met anyone that isn’t white, or a man.”  
Piper laughs, snorts really.  
“It is confusing that other people exist,” Jason says seriously.  
“And that women are people too,” Piper adds.  
Jason’s dry demeanor slips for a second, a smile crossing his face.  
“While I’m glad there’s someone else who shares Reyna’s dry wit, I’m not sure it’s a good idea to encourage her,” Rachel chides.  
“If I can’t complain then I need another drink,” Reyna says, shaking her empty glass.  
“I’ll go with you,” Jason offers, “that way you can complain to me and Rachel doesn’t have to hear it.”  
“You’re a dear,” Rachel says, squeezing Jason’s arm.  
Reyna and Jason split off from the group, headed towards the bar across the room. Rachel watches them, waiting until they’re out of ear shot before turning to Piper.  
“Well?”  
“Well what?”  
“Piper, if I have to explain to you the opportunity you have with that,” Rachel gestures perfectly to Jason without turning to look at him, “then I’ve entirely misjudged the way you swing.”  
Piper swallows, “I”m not sure there’s a particular way I swing, but Jason… that would be too complicated.”  
“Too complicated?” Rachel raises an eyebrow. “The only thing complicated about that choice is if you wait to take him home or drag him to a room upstairs.”  
Piper feels a heat creeping up her neck and spreading down her arms.  
“I’m sure our relationship would be wonderful, just him, me and every paparazzi in Los Angeles.”  
“Hmm,” Rachel hums dismissively. “If that’s what you’re going to let hold you back.”  
Piper catches sight of Jason turn back to look at her, the warmth in her neck spreading to her face. Mercifully Rachel isn’t paying attention and misses both Jason’s look and Piper’s reaction.  
“If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to freshen up,” Piper says hurriedly.  
She doesn’t wait for a response, making a line for somewhere that isn’t under the screwtening gaze of someone or the burning gaze of Jason. Piper finds herself passing through the doors to the ball room and into the heart of the hotel, the crowd thinning to spotted groups that flow towards or away from the event.  
Piper lets her feet carry her through the hotel to the front desk, Rachel’s joke still carrying a flush that lingers in her arms and shoulders and back. Stacked above them in perfect order are rows and rows of well furnished rooms, each with a soft and alluring bed.  
“Excuse me,” Piper says as she approaches the front desk, voice rough.  
“Good evening,” a man in a crisp suit greets her, the golden nametag on his lapel reads Jonathan.  
“I’m attending the event and,” Piper forces out a bubbly laugh, “I’ve already had a bit to drink. I’m not sure I’ll make it home.”  
“And you’d like a room?” Jonathan offers.  
“If you have any available,” Piper smiles.  
“Of course,” Jonathan nods, head turning down to look at something behind the counter.  
He types away for a second, looking up at her with an overly pleasant smile. “I will need an ID and credit card.”  
Piper hands over both, feeling the emptiness of the room push in on her, taking the place of her flushed warmth.  
“Here you are,” he says politely. “Your room will be eleven-twenty-three. I’ve also made you a spare key,” he gives her a polite but knowing look.  
“Thank you,” she says with a laugh. “But you give me too much credit,” she says dismissively, adding another laugh for good effect.  
Piper slips her ID, card, and both keys into her clutch and heads back towards the event. She lets herself slip a little as she walks, even veering slightly. All a good show for Jonathan.  
The event still rages, as much as a gala crammed with old, pompous, white money can. Rachel no longer stands alone, her date and Jason by her side. Jason has a glass of champagne in one hand, a glass of something golden brown in the other.  
Piper’s eyes fix on the glasses in his hands, putting together the sight of Jason holding not one but two drinks. He spots her approaching, weight shifting between his feet and shoulders squaring. Reyna and Rachel stand elbows touching, Jason just to Reyna’s side. Piper steps into the only space left, tilting herself towards Rachel, feeling every inch of space between herself and Jason.  
“I thought you might want another drink,” Jason says softly, holding out the glass of champagne for her.  
The chill that had slowly crept in at the front desk recedes slightly, pushed back by the brush of Jason’s fingers against hers as the drink is passed between them.  
“Thank you,” Piper smiles, skin already warm and buzzing.  
Jason dips his head quietly, turning back to Rachel’s insights on the lack of modern art due to the elite’s horrible taste and refusal to accept change.  
The conversation continues, though Piper can’t say she catches much of it. Her mind is drawn to the feeling of the hotel keycard in her hand, the feeling of Jason’s fingers brushing against hers. The buzz that so quickly returned to her slips under her skin to resonate there until it seems to be the only thing in the room beside the man standing beside her. The fourth glass of alcohol builds the charge, a steady flow of nerve numbing energy that makes her skin itch for something more.  
Piper lifts the glass to her lips, finding it empty except for a single drop that rolls slowly down the length of the glass to her tongue. She tilts it away, a steady hand wrapping around hers.  
“I’ll take that,” Jason offers, his own glass in his other hand.  
“Thank you,” Piper mumbles, shifting back to the world around her.  
Rachel and Reyna have moved their conversation between each other, debating between if the millennial mindset is a fabricated myth or something more. They have become so engrossed in their conversation, in each other that neither has seemed to notice Jason’s polite gesture or the fact neither Jason or Piper are listening.  
Piper pulls a deep breath in, filling her lungs until they burn with the stretch. With her now free hand she snaps open her clutch, eyes on the women across from her still debating. She slips a plastic key card free, tucking it against her palm as she snaps her clutch closed. Piper waits one heartbeat, two, three, before she moves her hand again. Reaching over to slide the key into the outside pocket of Jason’s jacket. She catches his eye as she moves her hand back, his eyes wide.  
“Eleven-twenty-three,” she mouths the room number, throat too dry to make any noise.  
She clears her throat, causing Rachel to jump and Reyna to eye her suspiciously.  
“As lovely as it’s been I think it’s time for me to go,” Piper says, keeping her voice mostly steady.  
“Are you sure?” Rachel asks, brows furrowed.  
Piper gives her a tired smile, “The smell of Rogaine and self-superiority is getting to me.”  
The joke warrants a laugh from all three of them.  
“Thank you for finding me, though,” Piper says, leaning forward to give Rachel a hug goodbye.  
“Of course, we should do something outside these events though. I’ll invite you out with me and Reyna,” Rachel gives her a dazzling smile.  
“Sounds great. And Reyna, it was wonderful meeting you.”  
“A pleasure,” Reyna says with a tip of her head.  
“Jason,” Piper gives him a smile. “Careful around divorcees.”  
Jason’s face shades a slight pink but he smiles, “I’ll do my best. Have a good night.”  
“Thank you.” Piper gives Rachel a final wave goodbye and starts towards the doors, hoping she’s not just imagining Jason’s eyes on her as she walks away.  
Piper lays spread across the duvet, arms held out at her sides, fingers tracing the detailed stitching as it weaves and curls. She stares off to the side, eyes taking in but not processing the textured painting of a tree, the leaves given life with heavy handed sweeps of a paint knife.  
The silence, the quiet that lives in the spaces between beats of her heart, drowns her. She has lain on the bed and felt the silence slowly rise, inch by inch, as it crept past the leg that dangles from the edge of the bed, upwards until she could feel it on her fingertips, further still to lap against the crown molding.  
She is left in it, aching for another drink, for noise, for the feel of someone against her, for her bones to finally break from the weight of the quiet.  
With every beat of her heart that echoes in her ears she feels the buzz slip away, feels the emptiness of the room take her in. It’s been hours she wages, years, that she’s lay here, waiting on the cold duvet for him.  
It was too much, you pushed it.  
The thought is whispered each time her fingers reach the farthest they can, having nowhere to reach but back in on themselves.  
She is resigning herself to this, to a night of frustrated nothingness when she hears the slide of plastic in the lock, the soft chime of electronics, and the click of something mechanical.  
A thread of light spills into the room, the gray and black of the painting flashing a murky and washed out green for a second before the door clicks closed again, the lock being thrown.  
Piper holds her breath, heart slamming in her chest, fingers curled against the fabric under her.  
“Piper?” his voice is soft, words a hoarse whisper.  
She pulls herself up in the darkness, blinking her eyes back into focus, watching the silhouette that moves slowly from the doorway. She breathes him in, the lingering scent of other women’s perfume, wool, and sweat.  
The light flicks on, forcing her to blink. Jason stands in the light with his jacket in one hand, bow-tie loose around his neck, and the first two buttons of his white shirt open.  
The clawing need to dig her fingers into him, to have his lips against hers, against any part of her, surges like a storm and pushes her off the bed towards him. She digs her fingers into his hair, presses her lips, chest, hips, everything, against him.  
Piper pulls enough space between them to tear at his shirt, a button snapping in the process. Jason's hands latch onto her hips, fingers lighting a storm inside her, one she thought had died in the quiet of the empty room. Her fingers work at the buttons, hurriedly pulling at them until she can manage to slip them through the narrow eyelet and free. Slowly she opens his shirt, exposing more warm skin to brush her fingers against, fuel she throws onto a storm that engulfs her, that shakes her bones.  
“Piper,” he mutters against her lips, Piper pushing into the kiss.  
She works her fingers faster, pulling harder and harder at the buttons, at his shirt, at any inch of him that she can get ahold of. The cold plastic slips through her fingers, silk fibers dragging against her knuckles. Piper breaks their kiss for a second, pulling in air while her fingers fumble with a button, half his shirt pulled free.  
“Fuck,” she curses, fingers slipping again.  
Jason’s hands grab hers, his long fingers curling easily around her hands.  
“Piper,” he says gently.  
“More. Faster,” Piper demands, hands pulling free of his, moving towards his belt.  
“Piper,” he growls her name, her breath hitching, hands shuddering to a stop. “Stop.”  
Every inch of her burns with the storm that’s been ground to a halt, her every muscle locking up.  
His hands push hers away from his belt, then move back to her hips, pressing her against him. His lips are on hers again, pulling at her, sending her eyes fluttering closed, heart hammering away in her chest.  
Jason’s hands slip around her hip, curling under her ass and lifting. He pulls her up, a smile breaking across her face for a moment until he goans softly into the kiss. With ease he lifts her up, carrying her the few short steps to the bed and lowering her onto it. Piper lets him guide her back, lets him lay her across the silky comforter. A space is opened between them, Piper’s hands quickly moving back to his shirt to finish what she started, to put a pace behind this, to send them spiralling downward faster.  
Her fingertips graze his shirt when he catches her wrist in one hand, pulling them away and over her head. Piper swallows dryly, lips parted, lungs shuddering as they pull for air.  
“Stop,” his voice is low, eyes fixed on hers.  
The command runs through her, sending a shudder down her spine like the first rumble of a summer storm. She can feel the lightning building somewhere just in the distance, somewhere just out of reach, but the promise of it is there.  
He straightens, freeing her wrists, one foot on the floor, a knee balanced on the bed between her legs. In a quick tug he pulls his shirt over his head, pulling free the sliver that wasn’t untucked and casting it aside. He works quickly with this belt, slipping it free and loosening the waist of his pants.  
“Jason,” she whispers his name, stilling him as he looks at her. “Please.”  
He moves over her again, kicking off his shoes, shifting his weight to one arm as the other traces the curve of her body.  
“Please,” she repeats.  
Jason’s fingers slip under the hem of her dress, dragging it upwards as his hands slides along the inside of her thigh, nerves snapping along the trail he leaves behind. He presses his fingers against her, a groan slipping free as she shifts to push against him.  
“I need you,” she pleads breathlessly.  
Jason’s fingers push the fabric of her underwear aside, sliding into her achingly slowly. She opens her mouth to plead with him again when they curl, letting that first snap of lightning break free of the storm, the thunder of its crash rocking through her. He moves again, sending another bolt through her that he follows with another, and another.  
The storm that’s built over the night, fed on drinks and looks and standing too close to him, breaks inside her. The clouds that clashed and built until they couldn’t be contained finally finding a grounding point in his touch and letting everything free. Piper loses herself in the storm, letting it carry her away until she’s breathless and pulled apart.  
His fingers still as the storm settles, not gone but abated for the moment.  
“Fuck,” she half mutters, half laughs. “Don’t think that’s it,” she tells him.  
She feels him laugh against her neck, lips pulling at her skin. “Wouldn’t imagine it was.”  
Jason lifts away from her, sitting up and searching for something on the floor.  
“There’s a condom in my clutch,” she offers, but he’s pulling his wallet free of his pants and flipping it open. “I thought you didn’t normally have one,” she teases, picking at his unpreparedness from the last time.  
“I’m a quick learner,” he tosses back, giving her a look that sounds another rumble from the storm.  
“Don’t I know that,” she mutters.  
“Dress,” he says curtly. “Off.”  
Another shudder runs through her, hands moving quickly to slip the straps from her shoulders and push the bundled fabric down her body. Her fingers catch the edges of her underwear, dragging them down as well. Her bare skin prickles with goosebumps at she exposes it to the night air, but it shivers as Jason’s eyes rake over her.  
“Jason,” she groans in a plead, in a challenge, in a need.  
He moves to hover over her, the storm in her body building to a focus in her chest that pulls towards him. Her hands pull at the comforter, wanting to dig into him, to trace her nails across his back as he pushes into her.  
Jason’s movements are careful and deliberate, slipping the condom free of the wrapper and over himself. Piper pulls her heels back, lifting herself towards him but his hand catches her. He presses her back into the bed, palm burning against her hip.  
“Fuck,” the word rips free of her, tumbling out into the heat that builds between them. “Come on.”  
Jason dips his head, catching her lips against his in a delicate kiss that burns with a fury she can’t help but breathe in, but lacks the crushing pull she feels in her chest.  
Piper lingers on the taste of his lips, the building want demanding that she pull him in, the crushing need demanding she take what she wants. Torn between the two Jason moves instead, sliding himself into her with a crack of thunder that fires every nerve in her body.  
Piper’s hands grip into the smooth fabric until they burn, until she can feel the fabric ready to pull apart under her nails. She rips them free of the comforter, wrapping her arms around his back and digging her nails into his shoulders.  
He grunts above her, hips still moving in a pace that only pours fire into her chest. Piper shifts her hips, pushing into him. She rolls them back and pushes into him again, then again, and again. With every roll and shift her pace speeds, hips rocking in a rhythm that builds upon itself until she’s left chasing it.  
As quickly as she grasps any of the lightning that snaps through her nerves it slips away again, leaving her grasping nothing. She chases the pace of their movements like she’s bailing water out as the storm pours more in. Having been let loose, but without any guiding wind the storm inside her only builds.  
“Piper,” Jason’s voice is strained and drenched in enough huskiness she could forget everything else but the sound of her name to have him say it again. “Piper,” he repeats, pushing himself his full length into her, pressing her into the bed.  
Words can’t grasp the emotion that clamps down on every part of her, so she groans.  
“Let me,” he whispers into her neck, hand still pushing down on her hip as he starts again, keeping her still as he starts another slow pace with languid thrusts.  
Piper strains at the time he takes, the only thought that rings through her is that of chasing down the storm. But Jason doesn’t relent, and while Piper groans, hands slipping down his shoulders to his side the storm cracks again.  
Jason doesn’t seem to be chasing the storm, he’s calling it down on her. The thrusts are still languid, still achingly long and slow but now she’s still feeling the flickering burn out of the last when the next comes.  
His pace may be slow but he is relentless, and the eye of the storm is finally there, just barely outside her reach. Piper wants to run towards it, to dive into it until it would consume her but he holds it back. His pace only rowing them forward at a firm and unending pace.  
“Fuck. Fuck.” Jason groans, breath washing across her and voice rumbling against her neck. “Piper I need you to come,” he whispers.  
A full bolt runs through her, curling her toes and twisting her into him.  
“Tell me,” she gasps between thrusts.  
“I need you-“  
“No,” she cries out, hands pulling at him. “Tell- tell me to,” she stutters as he pushes into her again.  
Jason leans back, forehead pressed gently to hers, eyes burning into her as she struggles to focus.  
“Piper,” he says far too fucking gently. “Come for me.” The firmness in his voice, the burn of his gaze, and another thrust breaks the storm.  
It dies with a rushing crash that rings through her, snapping and sizzling at it burns away and comes crashing down. Jason continues with another few thrusts, tapering out and leaving her shaking with the final echoes of the thunder that rings in her ears.  
Piper gulps in what feels like the first breath she’s taken all night, chest heaving against Jason’s. His weight still presses down into her, fingers still dug into her hip.  
“Holy shit. Holy fucking shit,” she groans. “Fucking shit.”  
He laughs and she groans again as he shifts inside her.  
“Fuck you can’t do that,” she whines, actually whines.  
“Uh, I have bad news then. I, uh, I- I didn’t…”  
“Shit. Seriously? How?” she demands, looking up at him through lead laden eyelids.  
“Concentration,” he says with a soft smile.  
“Then go,” she tells him as she rolls her hips into him, pulling a groan from him.  
“Fuck, Piper,” he says with a thrust.  
“Mm,” she hums.  
He picks his languid pace back up, pulling nearly completely free of her before he slides the entire length back in. Piper’s left groaning his name as he keeps a steady pace this time, but only dragging out her suffering just long enough to tense and stutter before she feels him release inside her.  
“Jason,” she calls out his name as he gives a final halfhearted thrust, weight slumping down onto her.  
Jason takes a few breaths before he lifts himself back up on his elbow, letting him peer down at her.  
“That was amazing,” he says, “and a little surprising.”  
“Yeah,” Piper feels a wave of heat roll through her. “But it was hot. I could get used to that.”  
“You could?”  
She nods, cheeks burning despite that he’s just given her two orgasms and is still buried inside her.  
“Then it’s something I could get used to.”  
A ghost of thunder rolls through her and her eyes flutter closed.  
“Then we’re going to have to figure some things about, because if we keep disappearing from these events and end up in hotel rooms, someone is going to find out.” She opens her eyes to find him still looming over her, eyes tracing the lines of her face.  
“Sure,” Jason says, eyes coming back to hers. “But after we clean up?’  
“Yes,” she laughs, causing him to shift and herself to groan. “Okay off. Please.”  
“I thought you liked being told what to do,” Jason mumbles but obliges, shifting his weight off of her and pulling himself out of her.  
He slides the condom free and ducks into the bathroom. The light flicking on as he curses and drenching the room in light. Piper crawls across the bed, picking his shirt off the pile of clothes and pulling it over herself. She manages to pull the edge of the sheets free from under the bed but hasn’t climbed under them before he walks back into the room.  
“I think that’s mine,” he says from behind her.  
“Are you really going to make a girl sleep in the nude on a cold night like this?” she bats her eyes at him over her shoulder, still pulling the sheets back.  
“I didn’t say I wanted it back,” he counters. “I just said it was mine.”  
“Noted,” Piper says, letting her eyes roam over him. “Very noted,” she says with enough husk to make him glance down.  
He snatches up his discarded boxers, Piper letting out a small sigh as he slips them on.  
Piper gets one leg into bed when Jason catches her, pulling her back onto the soft carpet and away from the softer bed.  
“You should use the restroom,” he tells her.  
“Too tired for that,” she complains.  
“Go.” He gives her a gentle shove towards the bathroom, taking the sheets from her hands.  
“Ugh,” she groans, stomping towards the bright light and cold tile floor.  
She hurries across it as quickly as she can, yelping softly as she sits on the cold porcelain to do her business. Piper hurries through it as quickly as she can, dashing from the bathroom and flying into the bed.  
She lands in a tangle of hair and limbs, clawing at the sheets to pull them over her and bury herself into his side. When she’s nestled in she glances up at him, his eyes half closed and unfocused but looking down at her.  
“That was amazing,” Piper whispers.  
“It was,” he smiles, eyes gliding over her. “Piper what is this? What are we?”  
“Something. At least I hope something.”  
“But what something? Something- something serious?”  
“Yes?” she answers as confidently as she can, but her voice shakes.  
“Then why am I only seeing you at these events? Why are we hiding this?”  
“Because we both know what publicity does to couples like us,” her throat burns with the words and her eyes with the tears she’s shed too many times before to shed again. “Look at our parents.”  
“We’re not them,” he says firmly.  
“No, but the pressure would be suffocating. We’d never have a moment alone together again.”  
“So what then? We pretend we aren’t this?”  
Piper chews on it, letting the idea build in her head into an image that she can settle herself in.  
“Yes. We play the game at events like this, but we have our own thing. Our own system.”  
“And what’s that? Pretending we don’t know each other?”  
“Only in public, and we don’t have to pretend we don’t know each other. Just that we don’t know each other’s O-faces.”  
Jason snorts out a quick laugh.  
“We also don’t give the paps a chance to find out. Or tell anyone. The more people that know, the more people that can spill.”  
“Fine,” Jason nods. “But you have to keep your hands to yourself in public.”  
“And you have to keep your looks to yourself,” she throws back at him.  
“Your dirty thoughts too,” Jason adds with a smile.  
Piper frowns. “Fine.”  
“One more thing,” Jason says seriously. “Be honest. You mean a lot to me Piper, if we’re doing this then we’re doing it right.”  
“Yeah we are.”  
“Piper,” he says flatly.  
“Okay, I promise to be honest.”  
“Good.” Jason pulls her tighter against him. “So it’s settled.”  
“And you’re fine with this? In all honesty,” she reminds him.  
“No, but I want to be with you, and if this is what you need to feel comfortable, then it’s what we’ll do.”  
“You’re a softy,” she whispers.  
“What about it,” he whispers back, lowering his lips to hers.  
Piper basks in the kiss, letting it chase away the thoughts of parents or paparazzi or any of the challenges the two of them face.  
“So,” Jason says, pulling away from the kiss. “Could you really get used to that? Earlier I mean.”  
Piper grins at him. “You’re still thinking about that?”  
“Answer the question McLean.”  
Piper leans back in, letting her lips brush against his, “Absolutely.”  
She kisses him long and hard, pushing it until the exhaustion of the night pulls the last of the energy from her.  
“G’night, Jason.”  
“Night, Piper,” he whispers.  
Piper twists and shifts until she’s neatly curled against him, his arm draped over her like a securing weight. The collar of his shirt digs against her neck but her eyes are already closed and his warmth lulls her to drift away to sleep, the steady beat of his heart against her back and the sound of his breathing following into her dreams.

 


End file.
